Chapter 2 Bryson Moss #2
My pulse picks up as she tilts her head a hint, eyeing me sideways. On stage, the hyper grad assistant has taken up the mic again, doing her best to calm the chatty room. Before things get too quiet, Jaden leans forward, almost mocking—no, definitely mocking—my posture.
“You’re so sure you’re going to make it through the season. What if you get hurt? Football . . . it’s such a dangerous sport.”
My jaw tightens. In my periphery I can tell Ashton didn’t hear her, his attention now on the stage. I’m glad, because she just confirmed my fear. I’m going to have to loop him in, but I need to make sure he knows I have it handled. I need those pills if I’m going to make it through the season.
“I think I’ll be just fine,” I bite out. “But how will you handle never seeing the court, charity case?”
Her eyes twitch, and her nostrils flare, a tiny chink in her armor.
My chest tightens when she swallows, guilt nudging its way into my head.
I’m letting my paranoia rule, and I almost utter a quick apology before Jaden’s gaze narrows and she leans farther over the table.
Nat, the blond next to her, is clearly invested in our conversation as she scoots in close too.
“Can you even throw the ball? Or are you just good at swiping Daddy’s credit card?
” Jaden gets the last words in before a student assistant plunks a coffee can filled with TinkerToys in the middle of our table for the team-building activity we’re about to tackle.
Our eyes are locked in a silent war through the instructions.
“Now, we know Storm athletes are the best at softball—” The emcee pauses while a few of the school’s softball players cheer, taking Jaden’s attention from me.
“And we know who’s the best football team in America!”
Ashton and I get to our feet and bump chests while the entire room erupts.
Jaden sinks back in her seat with her arms crossed over her chest, and the thought that nobody’s breaking into applause over our women’s tennis team amuses me. I’m being petty, but I’ve accepted it.
“Now, let’s see how you do at working together, shall we?
Your task is to construct the tallest structure you can.
But you only have five minutes. And you must use every piece.
You’re going to need to work together. Oh, and the best news?
The winning team gets free passes for hour-long massages at the resort spa up the hill. ”
The prize announcement garners a louder reaction than our football team got. I’m sure for a lot of athletes in here, the reward of having someone work out the massive muscle kinks from the work we do is a sweet motivator. But me? I just like to win.
A timer begins counting down on the projection screen as dozens of teams spill their wooden sticks and connectors onto their tables. Jaden reaches for our canister, but before she drags it away from the center, I hook a few of my fingers over the rim and hold it in place.
“What makes you think you’re leading our team?” I tilt my head slightly and hold her gaze, waiting as her eyes dim with challenge.
“I wasn’t assuming that at all. I’m just good at things like this and had an idea.” She tugs at the can, but I maintain control. Everyone else at our table sits back, letting us play tug-of-war alone.
“I’m sure we all have good ideas. And since this is a team project, maybe we should all have a say. I know you’re used to competing by yourself and all, so maybe let the team sports athletes get things started.”
Her head jerks back with a tiny flinch as a short, breathy laugh puffs from her lips. She pulls her hand away, and the instant release causes me to spill the sticks out onto the table.
“Come on, guys. We’re wasting time. Everyone, start building,” Ashton says.
I nod in agreement. Everyone gathers sticks and begins poking them into connectors.
I trade a few pieces with Ashton to my left and Logan to my right until I’m able to construct a sturdy box that we can use as a base.
Ashton hands me his structure, which isn’t as steady as mine, but I manage to connect it without our makeshift building collapsing.
“Next one!” I snap my fingers for whoever has something ready, then glance to my left, where Nat is trying to find a piece to hold her pyramid-type shape together.
We all fumble, searching for the right fit, and end up forcing the remaining toys together just to make sure we’ve used every piece.
With a minute to go, I stand up on my chair and connect the tangled structure to the base I built, then let go slowly while holding my breath.
I step to the floor, my hands out at my sides, my mouth frozen in a half smile while I soak up the cautious optimism. But then I blink, and in less than a second, our tower of sticks and wooden pegs tilts too far to the right, and the pieces break apart as they slam into the table.
“Fifty seconds!”
“We’re going to lose!” Nat cries.
Hands rush to collect the parts, and one of the wooden wheels rolls along the length of the table, stopping in Jaden’s hand.
She didn’t build anything, and frankly, the fact that she let her hurt ego get in the way of helping us pisses me off.
I can’t tell if she’s smirking or not, but she’s staring at me and giving off definite “I told you so” vibes, so I hold out my palms and sit back in my seat.
“Please, tell us your amazing idea.”
She chews at her lips for a second, knocking the wooden piece against the table a few times before blinking her attention toward Ashton.
“We need to make a strong column. Put the pieces together in one long line, but make sure the connectors are spaced out evenly and that we don’t have any weak spots. Everyone grab five or six pieces, then pass them to me when you’re done.”
Not wanting to be a stubborn poor sport like she was, I gather a few of the toys and link them together.
Ashton links my structure to his, and Logan and Nat connect theirs.
We funnel our pieces to Jaden, who fashions them into one massive stick.
It towers in the air when she stands it straight up, but there’s no way it’s not falling over.
“Twenty seconds!”
I roll my neck, trying to keep my inner competitive beast in check, because there’s no way we’re going to win.
But then Jaden plunks the coffee can in the center of the table and plants our skinny tower inside, pulling off three of the pieces to brace the pillar inside the can, allowing it to tower nearly ten feet into the air.
“Time!”
Jaden and the rest of our team members flop back into their chairs as Ashton starts to clap and laugh out his nervous energy.
I scan the room—only a few structures standing, not even one coming close to ours in height.
We’re declared winners quickly, and one of the student assistants passes gift cards out to our table before the emcee dismisses everyone for the day.
I slide my card into my pocket, forcing a toothy grin onto my face to match my friend’s excitement about winning a meaningless icebreaker game.
I won’t let my mood kill his school spirit.
In fact, I doubt that Jaden will say anything to anyone about the pills after she has time to think about it.
She has nothing to gain. It still pisses me off that she knows, though, and I’m not quite sure why.
Someone brushes my arm as I scoop my backpack and dangle it at my side. I twist as I stand and am met with Jaden holding her gift card out for me to take.
I relax my jaw and let out the hot air I’ve been brewing before shaking my head.
“No, you keep it. You earned it. It was a good idea,” I say.
Jaden insists, though, taking my hand in hers and placing the card in my palm. Confused, I blink a few times and move my gaze from the card in my hand to her face. Her expression is heavy, her eyes set on mine with the intensity of a doctor giving me a concussion test.
“I have a feeling you’re going to need it.” She drops her chin and shifts her attention to my backpack for a beat, then meets my eyes one more time before leaving me alone with my sore shoulder and heavy conscience.
And just like that, I know why this girl pisses me off so much. The only other person who’s hit me with such a look of disappointment is my father.